Image from lakesidelutheran.org
Will anyone rob God? Yet you are robbing me! But you say, ‘How are we robbing you?’ In your tithes and offerings! You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing me—the whole nation of you! Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, so that there may be food in my house, and thus put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts; see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing.(Malachi 3:6-10)
I wish that Google Earth had a time machine feature, where one could travel back to a certain year and zoom in on buildings and homes that once were. I'd visit 203 W. Avenue A, Kingsville, Texas, first. The home that was most memorable to my growing up is no longer there. It was a wooden house on blocks, with plenty of space underneath in which a boy could hide. Behind it would be the old Missouri Pacific building that my dad turned into a home for my grandmother. We didn't have much of a backyard, but that didn't matter because we have our "Momo." Then I would move the cursor over to Richard Street to see the old Chapa's Grocery Store, when it was still open, and in its own way, thriving. I don't think Mr. Juan Chapa ever made much money, but he sure gave a lot. He gave me an opportunity to learn about money and work. He taught me about attitudes towards work and how to find the fun behind most things that people cannot see as fun. And my mother, because of that first job of mine, taught me how to tithe. My "paycheck" was in the form of a small brown envelope with a dollar and two quarters. My mother knew that and she told me when I got that pay, to ask Mr. Chapa to please give me two dimes and a nickel. When work ended that first day, my mom drove up in our old Chevy, and handed me a church envelope. I had seen these in the pews at church, but being 9 years old, never thought much about them. She said for me to put in a dime and a nickel. I did, and she said, "That is your diezmo, tithe. That belongs to God." Fine with me. I wondered if I should give and I did say, "Is that all?" Mom laughed and said I could give as much as I wanted. I sealed the envelope and she said to put my name on it. The next morning I put it in the offering plate. This was the first time I wasn't handed money by my dad to give; up to that point that wasn't really a meaningful thing, and some experts have now determined that really doesn't teach giving so much as it teaches handing over what really isn't yours to begin with. And I'm remembering that that little church, El Buen Pastor Methodist (we weren't United yet) Church, would report on the back of the bulletin the names and amounts of people's givings. Imagine doing that now? I chuckle knowing what I know now. But there was my name and by it, .15¢. Wow! I was now fulfilling most of my vows of membership to the church.
The vows of my church are indicators of my stewardship. I promised to support my church with my prayers. At 9 I wasn't praying much. Maybe before tests at school, but even then I knew my mom and grandma were praying for me when I told them I had tests; a blessing that continued on through my university and seminary years. My presence was pretty much a part of my "drug" problem, for anytime the church doors were open, my dad drug me and my brothers and sisters to church. No questions asked. He often said we had to be dying or dead for us to miss church. And I can't ever remember missing church for illness. Maybe chicken pox. Now, with my tithing, I was supporting the church with my gifts. I also sang in the church choir and that was part of my stewardship life. I also attended Sunday school (another drug problem), and I was there at church whenever my mom and grandma had sewing circle or they made tamales at the church. Hey, I was present! And at 9 my service was limited to not misbehaving in church. Hello, I was nine! And that counts for a lot of service! As my talents developed and my commitment deepened, I was able to give and do more. So much so, that my call into ordained ministry came when I was in eleventh grade.
The Old Testament closes with a stern warning in its last book, Malachi. The middle part of that third chapter deals with faithfulness towards God. Those who hold back are guilty of robbing God, a very serious offense. In this case, the prophet was telling the whole nation of Israel their woes were based on their lack of faithfulness; restoration would come when they would bring in "the full tithe," and this promise, "see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing." I am one of the richest people on earth, not based on what my bank account says, but what my heart says. Blessing after blessing have come my way, too numerous to count. I can say these started when my beautiful wife said yes to marrying me. Then God blessed that journey with our four beautiful daughters. Then came two wonderful sons-in-law; and five awesome grandchildren. Has it always been easy? No, of course not. Has it always been fun? For the most part, yes. Has God stayed faithful to me? Yes, indeed!
